I survived another day
My off time, away from my Work as an emergency doctor, in a genocide. I Survived another day. Many did not.
Around midday, I was working alongside Aboud, Moaz, my brother Mahmood, his friend Hossam, and other young men, dedicating ourselves to a vital mission, preparing blankets, shoes, and winter clothing packages to bring whatever warmth we could to the forgotten children living along the shore of our camps.
We were only about a hundred meters away from a place that was suddenly hit by an airstrike. Shock and devastation. The place that was targeted was a funeral house, where people had gathered to offer condolences to the family of a martyr from the day before.
My brother Ahmad was at my aunt's house, only meters away from the strike. My father was on his way with a friend to offer condolences, heading to the very funeral house that was attacked.
How many Israelis have been killed since the ceasefire? None. And do you know how many Gazan children have been killed since then? Hundreds.
It didn't stop us. We finished our work and prepared the packages for distribution tomorrow. That matters, for two thousand children.
By now, it should be clear to the world: years of crimes against Palestinian children, and against children everywhere, have produced a system trained to kill children in Gaza, and in any place in the world, without accountability, and without remorse.
Have you listened to the testimonies of women returning to Gaza, how they were brutalized and terrorized? This is unbearable injustice.
This is the collapse of humanity. We are not weak, we have been deliberately weakened by some of the most violent and inhumane systems in human history.
They do not pause to consider the value of human life. That alone should leave every human being shaken, knowing that anyone can be killed, for no reason, with no accountability.
I am surviving the unsurvivable, trying to help those around me, while a war machine works to erase us. We are alive not by luck, but because we have not been killed yet.
Still, we have nothing to do but to remain, bearing witness, giving everything we have, and waiting for justice, to arrive in a form worthy of our suffering.
